


To Save a Suit

by WhoopsOK



Category: Common Law (TV)
Genre: Handcuffs, M/M, Squick, Tight Spaces, Watersports, Wetting, piss drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:57:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8034028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/WhoopsOK
Summary: "Whether by turning someone on or pissing someone off (no pun intended), Travis was good at being distracting."(Travis and Wes get shoved down a hole and Travis has a solution to Wes' problem.)





	To Save a Suit

Wes had _expressly_ told Travis not to chase the perp.

It was only the two of them, there was no back up _here_ or coming, and the guy was known to have no less than five cronies around at any given time, regardless of how it may have looked at the moment. Even if they had finally gotten eyes on him for the first time in _weeks,_ it would be _stupid_ to go charging in and try to detain him alone.

So of course Travis did it, of course he did.

Of course, they wound up with a gun pressed to Wes’ neck and three more pointed directly at Travis’ face. Because this is _not_ the kind of situation one goes into without sufficient back up; no matter how awesome Travis may think he is, he is not going to be able to take down five guys while Wes _magically handles_ the other six. And sure, Wes knew he should be grateful that – even though they were in an abandoned warehouse on the far side of town and their bodies wouldn’t be noticed for hours – the gang decided not to kill them right off, he still wasn’t not exactly happy about having his hands cuffed to a very heavy manhole cover.

When they shoved him _down_ said manhole, even landing feet first on Travis’ thighs, making him cry out and smack his head, was not as satisfying as it could have been. Especially when he landed ass-first on a metal crossbeam. He swore out loud as the group above them laughed, locking the grate shut and sauntering off.

“You _idiot_ ,” Wes hissed, because what else could he say at this point? He was already _steaming_ and the sweltering heat certainly didn’t help. “What did I say? _What did I say!?_ ”

Travis squinted up at him through a sliver of sunlight, both of his hands raised up just in front of his face, chained to the crossbar Wes was seated on. “Oh, why, yes, Wes, I’m fine. Thanks for asking, Wes,” he said sarcastically, “No, don’t worry about _almost breaking my legs!_ ”

Wes narrowly refrained from kicking him. “You wouldn’t have had to worry about that if you hadn’t run into the building like a _lunatic!_ ”

“I thought I had him!” Travis defended, then closed his eyes. “Look, I think we can both admit fault here. Let’s do some deep breathing exercises—”

“Travis, I swear to fucking—”

“Oh! We could think of this as a bonding experience!”

“I will knee you in the face!”

Sufficiently chastised, Travis slumped back against the concrete wall of the pipe. “I don’t think Dr. Ryan would like that you’ve started getting violent…” he muttered.

“Shut up,” Wes snapped and looked up through the grate and sighed. All he could see was the semi-collapsed roof and the noonday sun slowly cooking them. He pushed up on the grate with all his strength and succeeded only in getting rust ground into his hands. It didn’t budge. “Damn it,” he muttered, then tried to twist over his shoulder to see behind him. “Is there anything below you?”

“Uh,” Travis spread his arms and legs in the marginal space, ducking to look under the crossbar. “There’s another pipe in the direction I’m facing, but even if I _could_ get my hands free, there’s bars across it.”

“ _Damn it._ ”

“Anything in your pockets?” Travis asked hopefully, sucking his teeth when Wes just glared at him witheringly.

“You honestly think a guy like Sven Kohlberg—”

“Ok, I get it.”

“The leader of a professional group of international kidnappers would really—”

“Ok, _ok!_ I was just asking, jeez.” A bead of sweat rolled down Travis’ face as he tipped his head back to stare up into the sunlight. “I mean at least I left my phone in the car? They’ll have us out in no time.”

“Assuming Kohlberg didn’t find the car.”

“Are you trying to be a downer or does it just come natu— _ow!!_ ” Travis jerked when Wes jammed his foot down into his ribs. “Seriously!?”

“Keep talking,” Wes dared.

Travis – willing enough to admit this had not been his best plan – decided not to test his luck. He rolled his eyes and let his head lean back against the wall.

Even after some time had passed, and they were both damp with sweat and sticking to themselves, it really still wasn’t _so_ bad for Travis. He wasn't exactly _comfortable_ on the bottom – Wes’ shoes were sort of digging into his sides (probably intentionally) and he was starting to ache from being so cramped – but he still couldn’t complain too much. He had his elbows resting on his knee so his shoulders weren’t smarting too badly and he wasn’t generally claustrophobic, anyway.

And to the best of his knowledge, Wes wasn’t either.

However, he thought he might have had to revise that statement giving the current circumstances – less than an hour in and Wes looked like he was about to have an aneurism.

“Dude, it’s _ok_ ,” Travis said, leaning back to see his face and trying to sound calm. “I’m sure back-up will be here any minute now, don’t pop a vein.”

Wes didn’t even grace him with a glance, eyes clenched shut and jaw tight. “Shut up,” he said tersely, “Just keep quiet.”

“As a mouse,” Travis promised and immediately continued speaking. “It’s just like we’re in a sauna in a day spa! This heat is probably great for detoxing and your skin and shit. I mean, you’re the health nut, you would know more than I would but—”

“This is not a spa!”

“I know, it’s better! It’s free!” Travis said, “Man, if we could hotbox, we’d—” he was ready to jerk to the side when Wes kicked out that time, but that just meant Wes kicked the wall instead of his side and got even more pissed. “Dude, that’s karma.”

“I’m _warning you!!_ ” Wes said and this time Travis heard the legitimate hot anger in his voice instead of just baseline irritation. Travis was a little concerned that the next kick might actually be to his jaw.

He lasted another couple minutes – mostly by shutting his eyes and trying to imagine the heat was sleepy and not stifling – before he couldn’t ignore the motion above him anymore.

Wes was _wriggling_ in place.

Travis’ cuffs were _vibrating_ from Wes bouncing his leg; a nervous habit Travis almost _never_ saw in Wes.

Finally glancing up, Travis could literally _see_ Wes’ anxiety spiking, tension through his whole body and his hands fisted against the grate – he looked like he was moments away from thrashing which wouldn’t help anything. He was trying to figure out what it was – which part of this had Wes so upset – so he could pick at it until Wes was more _angry at Travis_ than freaked out about the situation, but he couldn’t piece it together. The heat was annoying not yet dangerous, and even the ache in Wes’ shoulders couldn’t be that bad yet. There was nothing particularly _wrong—_ well _,_ more wrong than being here in the first place, that Travis could pinpoint.

It wasn’t until Wes’ winced, suddenly jolting like he was going to press his knees together before he caught himself (and thankfully spared Travis a bloody nose in the process) that Travis suddenly realized what was happening.

“Wes...” Travis said carefully, which in and of itself was enough to trigger Wes’ temper.

“Shut _up_ ,” Wes clipped back through gritted teeth.

“Wes, do you…” Travis could hardly believe the words even as he understood them to be true. “Do you have to _pee_?”

“I said shut it!” Wes shouted, finally looking at him. His eyes were livid, but he was blushing as if he’d just gotten slapped at full strength.

“Oh man,” Travis groaned. “C’mon, man, aren't you the one always yelling about my potty breaks?”

Wes’ voice did some interesting acrobatics around the words “ _Fuck you!!_ ” before he turned his face into the crook of his arm, breathing heavy.

“Oh…” Travis said, eyes wide and heart sinking slightly, “Oh shit, wait. Wes, don't cry.”

“I'm not crying, you asshole,” Wes said but his voice was wobbling like a drunk on a bike.

Travis’ voice was a little reedy even as he tried to be nonchalant about the whole thing. “It's not that big of a deal!”

“Says you!” Wes said turning back to him, face pinched and eyes watery. “You're not about to _piss_ your fucking...” His voice broke a little and he looked away again.

“Ok. Ok, that's fair,” Travis assuaged, but then shrugged, “but it's just _me_! It's just me, nobody else is going to find out!”

Wes looked just left of enraged at that. “Oh yeah?” he snapped, “So the lid’s just magically gonna open, huh?” Wes tried to yank his hands down from where they were cuffed, working himself into a panic. “Everyone is going to fucking know!!” He was sweating profusely and shaking as he spoke and Travis wasn’t far behind for entirely different reasons.

“Ok, wait...” Travis closed his eyes and made it look like thought tough it was mostly him collecting himself. He was hot which was bad, he was damp which was worse, but listening to the desperation in Wes’ voice at the idea of soaking Travis in pee was making him—

He made a triumphant noise a moment later, snapping his finger to boot. “Ok, I got it,” he said, grinning as Wes looked down at him hopefully. “You just gotta get hard!”

Wes’ face fell immediately back into harassed and irate. “ _Excuse me?_ ”

“You ever tried peeing hard?” Travis defended, though his grin was dimming slightly. “That'll buy you some time.”

Wes shut his eyes, to block out the whole situation or just the _absurdity_ of that suggestion or the absurdity of Travis in general, one couldn’t say. “I am _not_ going to be able to—”

“Are you sure?” Travis interrupted, arching an eyebrow cockily. He knew he was treading dangerous waters by admitting a little more than he’d meant to about his state of mind, but hey, nothing ventured, right? “You know, this _could_ be kind of hot…”

“How exactly could this be hot?” Wes shouted back. “Unless you _literally_ mean the sweat rolling down my back right now, because you got us stuck in a hole _in 80 degree weather!!_ ”

Travis huffed out a slightly breathy laugh, biting his lip. “I don't know man,” he teased with a flirty grin. Whether by turning someone on or pissing someone off (no pun intended), Travis was good at being distracting. He knew how to play this game whichever way it went. “That look on your face, all pinched and flushed and shit...” he shifted his legs, hoping Wes wouldn’t notice the genuine tent in his jeans. “It's almost like the look someone gets right before they finally cum.”

Wes went scarlet. “That's not true!!”

“Yeah, it is, you know it is,” Travis sang, leaning his head against the wall to look up at Wes’ with lowered lids. “The desire right before the explosion, man! It kinda hurts, kinda feels like you might _die,_ but you still kinda like it. Makes you just wanna drag it out until you _just can’t_ —”

“We are not talking dirty right now,” Wes cut him off in a breathless a rush. “Now or ever.”

“But it feels similar, too, right?” Travis said, voice low and warm as he watched Wes twitch and squirm. “Your dick telling you to let go, your stomach all tight. It hurts, but you know it’s gonna be _so good_ when you finally get some release.”

“Shut up, you freak!” Wes shrieked, though his knees had been steadily drawing up like he wanted to shield his crotch from the effect Travis’ words were having on him; like he could really hide a half-chub from a guy whose face was just a few inches from his crotch.

It wasn’t that Travis hadn’t realized how close he was, but presented with a hard dick – of a guy he was _more than a little_ fond of – this close to his face made his mouth water. He had to swallow before he teased excitedly, “It's working, though!”

“On me or you!?” Wes shouted back, completely throwing Travis for a loop.

The embarrassed look that crossed his face was minute, but Wes was a cop and Travis didn’t cover it quickly enough.

Wes was too stunned to speak at first, staring down at Travis blankly with sweat dripping off his chin. “… _Are you kidding me?_ ”

“This isn't about me,” Travis said defensively.

“So suddenly you're gay _and_ you have a—a _piss_ fetish?” Wes exclaimed, sounding genuinely upset. “What the _fuck_ , Travis?”

Travis felt his chest tighten and he tensed, eyes narrowed. “I’m queer and I have a piss fetish,” he agreed evenly, “Which one of those is the problem for you?”

“Don't be stupid!” Wes said, kicking him in the hip. “The part where you're _getting off_ on my _suffering_!”

“I could pay you back?” Travis offered jokingly but also would-be-down-110%-if-asked seriously.

The vein in Wes’ forehead looked like it was about to make a break for it. “Do _not_ flirt with me when I'm about to piss on your face.”

“Do not threaten me with a good time,” Travis shot back immediately, with honest to goodness butterflies in his stomach. Though he’d like to avoid having to walk past _any_ number of his colleagues with piss all over him, the thought of Wes pissing on him was _really_ turning him on more than he ought to let it given the situation at hand. He’d jerk off about this for months, guilt and shame be damned. “What part of piss fetish was unclear? I know guys who’d pay good money to get a golden shower from you…”

Wes bit his lip, eyes shutting as he caved in finally and drew his legs together. His feet pressed unceremoniously into Travis’ chest as he clenched his suddenly not-so-soft dick between his thighs. “Oh my gosh, _shut up_.”

“See!” Travis said excitedly, glad to have the spotlight off his _minor_ piss obsession. “See, it is working! You like it too!”

Wes looked a little blown open by this information, now actively trembling in place. Leave it to Travis to induce a completely different crisis in the middle of another. He sucked in a breath, staring straight up and away from Travis, voice alarmingly sincere when he whispered, “Travis, I can't, please...”

“Ok, ok, I'm sorry,” Travis said immediately, stomach dropping. “I'll stop. I was—It was just teasing. No more. Think about...” He laughed, genuinely if a bit hysterical, “I don't know what kinda porn you watch, man, probably something that involves soap and rubber gloves.” Wes didn’t laugh or relax, but his breathing evened out after a moment so Travis counted that as a win.

They were sitting in silence, Travis looking pointedly down at Wes’ shoes on his chest, before Wes shifted again.

“I'm not gonna make it,” Wes whined dejectedly. He was never going to be able to look Travis in the eyes again.

The tears in Wes’ voice hurt Travis’ heart to hear. He took a deep breath, took a _fuck-it_ breath, and said, “Ok, Wes, let it be stated right now: you are my partner _and_ my best friend. I totally forgive you in advance if you piss on me. But,” he swallowed, head swimming with the idea, “Could I offer an alternative?”

“I can't get under you, Travis,” Wes replied, “I don't really see an alternative.”

Travis licked his lips. “I mean. I could just...” In a rare moment of shyness, he kicked his chin out towards Wes’ crotch instead of actually saying the words, “ _You know_. To save our clothes.”

Travis saw the moment Wes’ eyes went wide with shock and he started to ask if he was serious, but then they locked eyes and his mouth snapped shut. Travis was serious and hard enough to drive nails.

“How much of this is actually about _me_?” Wes asked instead of answering.

“What do you mean?” Travis asked, feeling put on the spot.

“You know damn well what I mean,” Wes said, sounding a little closer to angry instead of devastated. “Is all this just about how much I have to piss?”

Travis looked away; searching for an answer that wasn’t incriminating or revealing was proving harder than he would’ve liked. “I don't really do friends with benefits,” he said vaguely. They didn’t stick around or he didn’t, that was a toss-up. He couldn’t deal with Wes not sticking around, not after all of it.

“Is that a yes!?”

“ _No_.”

“Then what is it Travis?”

“I know...” Travis knew his time was running out. He blathered out the truth before he could tell himself it was a bad idea, he didn’t have time to form a better one. “I know you wouldn't… _do this_ with me otherwise. And I’d be ok with…” he shook his head, modified, “I could _live with_ just this once. Maybe all I'm good at is just once, and if it’s _you_ I’d—”

“ _No_.” Wes barked suddenly and Travis winced.

“Ok,” he said softly, with as little inflection as he could. He wasn’t hurt, this never happened, this day, this conversation, it never happened, so he wasn’t hurt, he wasn’t—

Wes interrupted his intentional mind blanking. “Not if this never happens again.”

Travis blinked up at him in shock, “’scuse me now?”

“If the only time you would...” Wes heaved out a breath, face tensed and thighs trembling, “ _do something like this_ is right here, right now, I’d rather deal with the pissy clothes.”

Travis didn’t even know what to say at first. “Are you offering _me_ more?”

“I never do less, Trav,” Wes admitted. His voice cracked and he clenched with everything he had, whimpering and trembling. “Please just answer me, please I can't—”

The anticipation and hope and _heat_ were making it hard for Travis to breathe. He leaned forward never the less, “If you'll take me again—”

“You’re the only one I'd take, Trav,” Wes said and Travis hated and loved that he found out like this, his heart was soaring even as Wes started to cry. “I’d take anything from you again and again, I just need you, please, you gotta—” he started whimpering nonsense at that point, Travis wasn’t even sure how much of it was actual words.

“Ok, shh,” Travis had to shift around awkwardly, forcing his knees under his body and Wes’ legs apart with his shoulders. “Shh, I got you, baby.”

It was hard to reach the zipper of Wes’ trousers – it wasn’t teeth friendly – but Travis managed and moaned when he noticed Wes’ underwear was already damp.

“Please,” Wes whimpered.

Travis was good with his mouth and got the underwear out of the way, tugging against the little slack he had at his wrists until the whole front of Wes’ pants came open. His dick rose out red and needy right before Travis’ face. He only took a moment to mutter, “You better not taste like hand sanitizer” before he went all in, groaning as he slowly took Wes down.

Wes moaned out, somehow the pain in his stomach growing, “ _Trav_.”

Travis laughed slightly, but didn’t respond. Wes didn’t taste like hand sanitizer and Travis was _living,_ this was better than any scenario he’d ever jerked off to. Wes didn’t have a lot of leverage to bow and twist like he clearly wanted to, but his desire was evident in the way he jerked against his chains, panting as he gave shallow little thrust into Travis’ mouth. He couldn’t even form words and Travis looked up at Wes to find his mouth locked open and lips damp, looking back down at him in awe.

He’d never seen anything so beautiful – neither of them had.

Because Travis, with his eyes bright and wanting and his lips stretched around Wes’ throbbing cock was too much to take. “ _Travis,_ ” he tried to warn, but Travis seemed to take it as a challenge. Travis hollowed out his cheeks and pressed his tongue out nearly to Wes’ _balls_ and Wes _was gone._

All higher level thinking cut off as the most intense orgasm Wes had ever had washed over him. He could hear himself, the loud, breathless keening sound he made as it happened, but he couldn’t make himself stop. Even as his vision cleared and he opened his eyes, he still felt like he was orgasming, mind spinning. That was longer than he ever remembered orgasming and he belatedly realized, looking down and remembering how all this got started, that it was _pee_.

He’d cum and was now pissing straight down Travis' throat. He made an alarmed sound, but was too far gone to hold back at that point, piss rushing hot and fast into Travis’ mouth.

And, well, it seemed like that was for the best anyway.

Because Wes looked down just in time to see Travis grinding on air as he swallowed, moaning softly with his eyes rolled back.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Wes said and Travis' eyes immediately snapped back to his. Even as the piss dribbled to a stop, Travis didn’t pull off, a little dazed.

“Did you just...” Wes began in disbelief, though Travis looked fucked out enough that he didn't really need to. “Did you _cum_ from that?”

Wes jerked when Travis laughed around his dick before pulling back and licking his lips.

Travis was a little embarrassed but a lot excited as he exclaimed, “Man, I didn't even know I could still _do_ that!”

Part of Wes wanted to blame heatstroke for the way those words tickled him, but he started laughing so hard he couldn’t even speak to explain that. Travis’ bright grin just made him feel fluttery on top of mildly hysterical.

It was almost (completely) worth the way Travis “accidentally” bit him in the mad scramble to get Wes’ dick back in his pants and the fucked-out, love-struck looks off their faces before their coworkers rushed in to cut them lose.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading...even though it's getting cooler out, try to drink some water everyday!


End file.
